TL: Hua

Chapter 60

“Colonel?”

Ji Jingche snapped back to reality and pulled on a clean set of clothes. “Help me look into something… a space disaster that happened sixteen years ago near Planet Drake. The flight number was U1799.”

He carefully recalled what Ji Xuan had said. Although he was extremely reluctant to believe it, what the other had said was indeed the truth. It was impossible for two completely identical faces to exist in the world; even if they were similar enough to be mistaken for one another, appearing on the same ill-fated starship at the same time was far too much of a coincidence.

Ji Jingche finished giving a few more instructions, then walked slowly to the dilapidated window. The glass was speckled with bits of paint, and the frame was rusted. Outside, the rain was still drizzling. Not far away, an aircraft rose into the sky; it shouldn’t be long before Ji Xuan returned to the transit planet to meet Pei Yingye.

The place Ji Jingche was currently staying was the only hotel on the garbage planet. The mottled walls were peeling, the ceiling was damp, and once a bed was placed in the narrow space, there was only enough room for one person to pass through. Even turning around felt cramped.

In the nearby garbage mountains, people intermittently came to collect the wreckage of abandoned starships or aircraft.

Upon arrival, Ji Jingche had encountered two mugging drifters, but he had subdued them with ease. Looking closely, he realized they were probably only fifteen or sixteen years old.

The terminal screen flickered, and Ji Yan’s name popped up. Ji Jingche’s brow furrowed instinctively as those chaotic thoughts he had forcibly suppressed resurfaced.

Why would he mistake Ji Yan for his brother? Why did that starship disaster just happen to involve a child who looked so much like Ji Xuan and was of a similar age?

Actually, the answer was very simple—Ji Yan had been intentionally sent to the Ji family.

Ji Jingche cut off Ji Yan’s call request; he had absolutely no desire to deal with him right now.

The terminal emitted a “busy” tone. Ji Yan, whose call had been rejected for the first time after actually connecting, furrowed his brows in surprise.

But quickly, his brow smoothed out again, and he smiled innocently at the man in front of him: “Big brother is probably busy with work.”

“I’ll call Second Brother. He should be coming back too.”

—

Ji Xuan glanced at the call notification on his terminal and similarly ignored it.

Pei Yingye sometimes felt that Ji Xuan was a master at playing dead; if they ever got into a cold war in the future, surely no one would be a match for him.

Wait, why was he thinking about such depressing things?

Ji Xuan surely wouldn’t use such a cruel tactic on him, right?

A certain person named Pei, who had been dumped at the transit station, felt that his past half-day had been practically better off dead. This planet was located at the border of the Third and Fourth Galaxies. Whether it was a matter of development philosophy or something else, the entire planet felt like a giant urban-rural fringe.

He thought he could easily find a bustling, lively place to kill time, but the drive took him either through rural areas, deserted commercial districts, or the outskirts of the city. To make matters worse, the city was seaside with few buildings, so it was plagued by relentless gusts of wind. It was the first time Pei Yingye discovered that his hairline was actually quite impressive, though standing on the street still resulted in him being blown into a “disturbed youth[1]” look.

He saw the sea, but it was incredibly boring. In the end, he could only sit in front of an ancient temple across from the commercial district and watch a play with the local elderly residents for three hours.

The play was just okay; after all, he spent the whole time spamming Ji Xuan with messages.

[When are you coming back?]

[I’m so bored.]

[I’m about to be blown stupid by the wind!!!]

[Colonel Ji isn’t a child anymore, I think it’s fine to let him roam the garbage planet alone.]

[I really want to go back to the Military Academy.]

[Do you remember your snake far away in the Lower City? After being apart for so long, don’t you feel a burning desire to return?]

Ji Xuan only replied with one message.

And it was a meme.

[Manually shutting up the German Shepherd.jpg]

Pei Yingye: […]

[Scolding me again?]

Ji Xuan: [How could I.jpg]

But once he finally waited for the person to arrive, he didn’t want to go back anymore.

To give Ji Xuan enough time, and because the flights on the transit planet weren’t very frequent, their starship back to the capital planet wasn’t leaving until the next morning. So that night, a high-spirited Pei Yingye dragged Ji Xuan to the beach he had visited during the day.

Ink-colored waves surged in layers, crashing against the empty beach. The demonic wind that had raged during the day showed no sign of stopping at night, swirling with the salty, fishy scent of the sea.

Pei Yingye was just about to speak with smug satisfaction when, as soon as he opened his mouth, a more violent gust of wind swept Ji Xuan’s long hair across his face.

However, what invaded his senses before the salty sea air was the faint, bitter fragrance carried by those strands of hair brushing against him.

In that moment of daze, Ji Xuan had already tilted his head slightly. His wind-tousled hair slipped from Pei Yingye’s fingers and cheek, revealing the smooth lines of his jaw and the side of his neck.

“It really isn’t as good-looking as your eyes.”

Ji Xuan’s voice evoked memories of that dream, further validating Pei Yingye’s wild conjectures about his memories from four years ago. But Ji Xuan only said that one sentence and offered no follow-up, walking unhurriedly along the coastline toward the hotel they had booked. Pei Yingye caught up in a few strides and hooked his fingers into Ji Xuan’s.

Ji Xuan was taken aback. Before he could pull himself away, he heard him say, “I told you it was windy here. Why is it so cold?”

As soon as he finished speaking, he stuffed Ji Xuan’s hand into his own pocket, giving him no time to refuse.

Pei Yingye’s palm was a bit rough, his fingertips, bearing thin calluses from years of training, wrapping around Ji Xuan’s fingers with a vivid sense of presence. Ji Xuan glanced at him; the latter’s expression was perfectly calm and unbothered, as if what he had just done was the most ordinary thing in the world.

But as the saying goes, the most direct way to understand a civilization is to understand its culture. Ji Xuan had read almost all the popular novels on the StarNet; how could he not see through such a childish flirting tactic?

However, the feeling was slightly novel. He had never imagined he would walk along the beach holding hands so intimately with another person, especially in such a desolate place.

So, after thinking about it, he let him be.

The sea wind didn’t stop all night, rattling the hotel windows with a whistling sound.

The next morning, the wind seemed a bit tired, its momentum slightly reduced, though the sky remained a gloomy gray. The two had a light meal at the hotel and then set off for the spaceport.

The return starship was much more comfortable and spacious than the old aircraft they came in. Pei Yingye’s legs finally had room to stretch; he sprawled wide, nearly encroaching on Ji Xuan’s space.

Ji Xuan didn’t care much about these small movements at first, leaning against the window to idly admire the view of space. It wasn’t until his thigh was “accidentally” bumped for the nth time that he reached his limit. He used his knee to shove back forcefully, pushing the other’s thigh away.

“Don’t take up my space.”

The pressure against the outside of the thigh wasn’t heavy, far from being painful, but Pei Yingye made a very shameless “hiss” of pain. He then stayed in that posture, leaning over with his elbow on the armrest between their seats, tilting his head to look at Ji Xuan: “So stingy? There’s so much room; what’s wrong with sharing a bit with me?”

Ji Xuan looked at him indifferently and was about to speak when the starship’s broadcast chimed in at the right moment, reminding passengers to fasten their seatbelts as they were about to perform a safety check before the jump.

A service robot glided down the aisle, its electronic eyes scanning every passenger.

Pei Yingye “tsk-ed” and finally retracted his leg reluctantly, slowly pulling over his seatbelt to click it into place.

The safety check passed quickly. Once the dizziness and weightlessness of the jump subsided, the starship stabilized, and the familiar spaceport of the capital planet appeared outside the window.

The first thing they did upon landing wasn’t returning to Mars Military Academy, but heading to the lower city to retrieve Mephisto, whom Ji Xuan had left in the care of a bar owner.

Most aircraft at the spaceport were heading to the upper city. Pei Yingye finally managed to hail one that would take them to the lower city, but he spent a good while haggling at the roadside before letting Ji Xuan get in.

“I thought you didn’t care about money,” Ji Xuan teased him once they arrived.

Pei Yingye said, “I don’t care, but I’m not stupid either. He hiked the price five or six times over. That price could have taken us on a full loop around the capital planet.”

Ji Xuan laughed and glanced at Pei Yingye’s hand, which was inconspicuously draped over his shoulder, but said nothing.

The bar owner wasn’t in today. The person who took them to get the snake was the Beta bartender. As she opened Mephisto’s safety box, she was humming a nursery rhyme with great interest.

“Mommy and Daddy go to work while I go to preschool~ hey baby, your parents are back from work to pick you up.”

Ji Xuan: “…”

Pei Yingye: !!!

Pei Yingye was overjoyed and ecstatic. He immediately ordered two of the most expensive drinks downstairs to support her business. The bar owner had taken good care of Mephisto; after half a month, its scales were much glossier. Mephisto impatiently scurried up Ji Xuan’s arm, its cold body expertly coiling around his lean forearm, its triangular head affectionately nuzzling Ji Xuan’s wrist.

Pei Yingye cast an unfriendly look at it, and it didn’t hesitate to lift its head to retaliate. With a flick of its scarlet tongue, its golden vertical pupils were filled with pure provocation.

Pei Yingye: “…”

“It glared at me! Did it just glare at me?” Pei Yingye pointed at it and said to Ji Xuan, “Do you know that your luxury half-month stay was paid for by me?”

Ji Xuan looked up at him, and as if recalling a funny memory, his eyes curved into a smile. Under the warm yellow lights of the bar, his peach blossom eyes looked like a pool of shimmering spring water. Caught by that gaze, all of Pei Yingye’s anger vanished instantly.

The bartender handed over the two drinks he wanted. Pei Yingye didn’t even look before grabbing one and gulping it down.

He slammed the bottom of the glass down near Mephisto, then quickly pulled it away, childishly provoking the snake before saying, “I won’t sink to your level.”

He pushed the other glass in front of Ji Xuan. The latter lowered his eyes to scan it, his slender fingers gripping the glass wall. After a gentle swirl, he leaned down and took a sip.

“Can I borrow your place for a bit?” Ji Xuan asked the bartender.

The bar hadn’t entered full business hours yet, so there weren’t many customers in the hall. The bartender didn’t hesitate for long before opening the counter door to let Ji Xuan into the bar area.

Base spirits, mixers, measuring cups, shakers… the bartender taught patiently, and Ji Xuan learned patiently. The shaker rose and fell in his hands, the ice cubes clinking and clattering.

Pei Yingye leaned against the bar, watching intently. Ji Xuan’s eyelashes were half-lowered, the light casting small shadows on his face. The tips of his long lashes seemed stained by the warm glow of the bar, making his usually cold profile appear much softer.

Just as he was admiring the view, an uninvited figure blocked the light.

“Ji Xuan?” The newcomer had a head of bright red hair and wore a garish, color-blocked shirt, his excitement impossible to hide. “Do you still remember me?”

Ji Xuan looked up, his gaze sweeping over the man’s face.

Pei Yingye: “Wait, who the hell are you—”

“I remember.” Ji Xuan laughed. “Three hundred thousand, right?”

“—Shaikh’s friend?”

[1] 精神小伙 (lit. spirited young man) is used to describe a specific type of guy, often associated with a certain “cringey” or “try-hard” aesthetic and behavior. They usually have this trademark slicked-back comb-over hairstyle; that’s why PYY said that.